


Recondition

by LoremIpsum (Snowy_the_Sane_Fangirl)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Desertion, F/M, Gen, I'm not sorry, Pregnancy, Slavery, it'll be a good time, it's a fix-it, nor should I be, we're gonna be picking apart slavery so hard in this one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-10-24 10:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17702558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy_the_Sane_Fangirl/pseuds/LoremIpsum
Summary: The clone’s name is Shim, but when they come for him they call him CT-28-1795.When it comes down to it, Anakin Skywalker can’t ignore the enormous institutionalized slave empire right in front of him.





	1. Shim

The clone’s name is Shim, but when they come for him they call him CT-28-1795.

Anakin is standing in the corner of the 501st’s temporary planetside barracks more out of coincidence than anything else, leaning over a datapad with Captain Rex as they consider the terrain for their next assignment. Two weeks of leave are nearly over and they will be sent to Felucia next, to support Aayla Secura in the ongoing conflict there. Rex explains that much of the specialized gear they used on Umbara, aside from the headlamps and weapon mounted lights, will also be used on Felucia. The fleet, he says, is fully stocked already.

The door opens and clone troopers enter. Their armor is unmarked; they are not part of a battalion. Shock troopers, permanently stationed on Coruscant, Anakin surmises, as he straightens up to investigate.

“CT-28-1795,” one of them says, “you are being recalled for reconditioning.” There's a wave of something in the Force. Mourning, Anakin realizes, as if their brother is already dead. Shim stands, abandoning the datapad he’d been looking at on his bunk, and tucking his helmet under his arm. Anakin doesn't need to reach out with the Force, although he does anyway. , to see the quickly veiled panic in the lines around his eyes. His Force signature is drenched in something -- acceptance? Surrender? -- and echoes of fear.

_ “Clearly you require further processing!” _

_ “No! I won’t go back there!” _

Anakin draws a deep breath and releases the table. Shim is walking towards the shock troopers, helmet under his arm, like he’s going to the mess after a mission. The room is humming with unspoken goodbyes and muted fear and silent resentment, but there’s no anger; no defiance.

“Stand down, trooper,” Anakin says, and the whole room turns at the unexpected interruption. “Why is he being reconditioned?”

The shock troopers pause for a moment; it seems they’ve never been questioned in this particular execution of their duties before, or not by a Jedi General, at any rate. “Desertion,” comes the response. “Trea-”

“He ran.” Rex cuts off the speaker. “On Umbara. After Krell set us against the 212th. He hid in the barracks.” There’s no derision in Rex’s voice; not like the disgust he’d harbored for Slick. Anakin has only heard the abridged version of what happened on Umbara. He’s used to demanding answers out loud, or forcing them, but he finds he doesn’t even have to try to skim the unspoken truth from Rex’s mind; it floats easily toward him and he wonders if Rex did that on purpose. _Everyone_ had wanted to hide after that, weighed down by the filthy shame of having murdered their brothers, torn between following orders because _good soldiers follow orders_ and the knowledge, suddenly clear as day, that Krell wanted them dead.

“You’re not taking that soldier,” Anakin says.

The trooper hesitates. “Sir, our standing orders are --”

“You’re _not_ taking that soldier.” To punctuate his claim, Anakin opens his hand and his lightsaber easily flies into it. The room is alight with fear again, but this time it’s trepidation that their general has finally snapped and Anakin takes comfort in its familiarity.

Shim shifts uncomfortably. “Sir, my actions endangered my brothers. I knew there would be consequences when I --”

“You’re not going _anywhere_ , Shim,” Anakin says. He points at the shock troopers, standing uneasily by the door. “Get out.”

They leave. Anakin returns his lightsaber to his belt. Everyone is still staring, unsure how to process this new development. “Sir,” Rex says.

Mentally, Anakin laughs. Now they want an explanation and he doesn’t have one. He could make a dozen excuses, but in the end he did it because he felt the compliance and the fear and had viscerally rejected it because fear should be _out there_ , on the front lines and among the clankers and not in their own (temporary) barracks, among their own brothers. He doesn’t even know what reconditioning _is_. Nothing good, judging by the cautious relief floating around Shim.

Anakin opts to leave the barracks. As soon as his outburst is reported the Council will summon him, so he decides to save them some time. He is walking up the Temple steps when his comlink beeps and he answers it. It’s Obi-Wan. “Anakin --”

“The Council wants to speak to me, I know. I’m on my way.” He hangs up. It’s only a fifteen walk through the grand entry hall, up a wide staircase, into a turbolift, and down another hall.

When he enters the Council Chamber, everyone is silent. He wonders if they have sat in silence since Obi-Wan called him as he steps to the center of the room and offers a bow.

“Skywalker,” Mace Windu says, “we’ve been told you obstructed Senate shock troopers in their duties.”

“I prevented them from recalling one of my troopers for reconditioning,” Anakin says.

“By threatening them,” the shivering hologram of Shaak Ti says. Anakin does not respond, and judging by how quickly the next question comes, they expect no response.

Obi-Wan speaks up this time. “Anakin, we don’t have the authority to decide which clones need to be reconditioned.”

“None of them!” Anakin suddenly says, to his own surprise as well as everyone else’s. “Haven’t you _felt_ their fear? It’s a death sentence.”

“Felt it, we have,” Yoda says, peering at Anakin over clasped hands. “Partaken in it, we have not.”

Anakin, uninterested in hearing again about the inescapable dangers of fear, presses ahead. “He wasn’t able to go out and fight, but there are plenty of administrative jobs he could do, away from the front lines. Reconditioning isn’t necessary.”

“Once again, we don’t decide that,” Mace Windu says.

“No, you can’t do this,” Anakin says. “It’s outrageous, forcing them to --” He still doesn’t know what reconditioning is.

“The Senate has bills on the floor regarding clone rights,” Ki-Adi Mundi says.

“The Senate isn’t fast enough!” Anakin yells, face twisting in anger. He knows exactly how long it takes for a bill to pass through the Senate, from its conception through the committee stages and on into voting before it’s finally ratified or vetoed. He knows exactly when this bill was first proposed, almost two years ago. And in that time, how many clones have died on the front lines? How many have been _reconditioned_ , something they clearly regard as equal to death?

“We didn’t call you here to have this argument, Skywalker,” Windu says. “The Senate Corps will send a detachment to collect the clone. You will not interfere.”

Anakin thinks about the quiet hopefulness he’d felt in Shim; the knowledge that he had been completely ready to accept his fate but at the same time so, _so_ relieved that he didn’t have to. He bows. “I understand, master Windu,” he says. He doesn’t even try to sound contrite.

Obi-Wan cautiously follows their bond, probing for Anakin’s real intentions, which he doesn’t believe for a moment are to go back to whatever he was doing and allow the shock troopers to follow through with their assignments. His former padawan’s thoughts are guarded with shields like mountain ranges, though, and he gets nothing but a vague sense of disgust and anger as Anakin turns and leaves.

The Council moves on to other topics; the ongoing conflict on Felucia is a continuing topic of concern. The Republic has been unable to make progress there since the war broke out. There is some hope that the arrival of the 501st and the 212th will give Aayla Secura the support she needs to push through to the planet’s capitol. It’s an essential tactical position, with its access to hyperspace lanes and trade routes and the vital nysillin resources to be found there.

The conversation apparently continues for longer than Obi-Wan thought, because when his comlink beeps, it’s Cody. He answers it with an apologetic nod to the other Council-members. “Sir,” Cody says. “The _Resolute II_ is breaking orbit ahead of schedule.”

“It’s _what_?” Obi-Wan says, but he already understands.

“The _Deliverance_ is following it,” Cody says. “Plus the _Paladin_ and escort ships. The whole 501st.”

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan says. “Patch me through to orbital defense, will you?” He looks up at the Council as he deactivates his comm. Someone has already activated the central holoprojector and is hailing the _Resolute II_.

For a moment, there is no answer from the fleeing fleet. No one really expects one, so it comes as a surprise when a shaky blue hologram of Anakin appears in the center of the room, arms crossed over his chest. “What?” he says flatly.

“Anakin, what are you doing?” Obi-Wan asks.

“What I must,” comes the answer, cold and dark and terrifyingly convicted. “My men are not slaves.”

“Stand down, Skywalker,” Mace says.

“No,” Anakin says, and it looks like he’ll say more. Yoda cuts him off.

“What you are doing, treason it is,” he says.

“Not from my point of view,” Anakin says. “From my point of view it’s the Republic that’s evil, and the Jedi are evil for supporting it.” He leans forward, apparently to cut their connection.

“Anakin, if you don’t return to orbit immediately we will be forced to arrest you,” Obi-Wan says.

It’s not with Anakin’s usual insubordinate confidence, but with grim determination that he replies. “You will try.”

Anakin vanishes. Obi-Wan activates his comm. “Orbital defense, target the hyperdrives of the 501st’s task force. Aim to disable, not destroy.”

“Sir?” comes the response, confusion evident in the man’s voice. It’s not a clone.

“Target them now, ensign,” Obi-Wan says. “Don’t let them enter hyperspace.”

“Right away, sir,” the man says. Someone calls up a tactical view of Coruscant’s airspace. Three star destroyers and a medical frigate have peeled away from their orbital positions and are forming up to leave. It’s awkward and inexpert; most everyone comes to the same conclusion that there aren’t any naval officers on board. They’re being directed by inexperienced hands, and that could work to their advantage.

The first shots connect with the _Paladin_ ’s aft shields. They’re harmless. The fleeing ships continue to lumber into hyperspace position. Everyone knows it’s too late; the orbital defense cannons won’t make a dent in the shields fast enough to stop the fleeing ships. The Council exchanges glances and then turn as one back to the holo just in time to watch Anakin Skywalker and his task force shrink into pinpoints of light, invisible among the stars.


	2. Trust and Treason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations about treason and the appropriate reaction to treason are had, and everyone is unhappy, except for Palpatine, who makes his own happiness.

Padmé Amidala finds out that her husband led his entire battalion of clones in a mass defection when several members of the Jedi Council enter Palpatine’s office unannounced in the middle of a crucial meeting between the Chancellor and the committee for the Executive Power Reallocation Act, of which she is the chair. Palpatine raises a hand when the Jedi enter, cutting Bail Organa off in the middle of a word. “Masters. What can I do for you?”

“Urgent matters to discuss with Senator Amidala, we have,” Yoda says.

Padmé is irritated already; this is not the first time the Council has intruded on her personal meetings and while they generally have matters of certain urgency to discuss, she feels that this meeting cannot be postponed again, or worse, continued without her. “What is it?” she asks, ignoring the implicit suggestion that perhaps this is something that should be discussed in private. Everything in her life these days is behind closed and locked doors and something, _something_ needs to be out in the open.

There is a pregnant pause. Ki-Adi-Mundi speaks up, finally. “Knight Skywalker took his battalion and task force and deserted with them this morning,” he says.

Padmé resists the urge to bury her head in her hands. As her mind struggles to process everything in that sentence, some wry, humorless voice points out silently that this is not the kind of thing she wants out in the open. “And this affects me why?” she says cautiously.

“He trusts you,” Mace Windu says. Padmé wonders if the odd note in his voice indicates that he knows there is more than just _trust_ to that relationship, or if she is imagining that. “We thought you might be able to offer some insight into where he might have gone.”

It’s with significant ire and complete candor that Padmé responds, “I’m afraid I have no idea, Master Windu. He certainly never discussed any plans of this sort with me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“We don’t think it was planned,” Windu says. “You’re sure you don’t know of any favorite haunts of his, or goals?”

“Why would I know that?” Padmé asks, and her voice is sharp now, warning. “I am afraid I cannot help you, Masters.”

It’s at this point that Palpatine speaks up, surprise coloring his voice like she’s never heard it before. “Anakin _deserted_?” he asks. “Whyever did he do that?”

Windu’s voice is cold. “With respect, Chancellor, this is an internal affair.”

“But he took an entire battalion of Republic troops with him,” Palpatine says. “It doesn’t _sound_ like an internal affair.” He sounds suddenly more at ease.

The Jedi Masters exchange glances. “Claimed the Republic was unnecessarily endangering his troops’ lives, he did,” Yoda says.

“And so he abandoned the Republic.” Palpatine’s voice is mournful. “Are you certain that he made this decision, well, by himself?”

“Are you suggesting someone might have influenced him to do this?” Ki-Adi-Mundi says.

“It’s a possibility we cannot ignore,” Windu says.

“Unfortunately I am going to have to issue a warrant for his arrest,” Palpatine says. “Regardless of the circumstance, we are talking about, well, treason.”

“Unwise, this is,” Yoda says. “Betrayed by the Republic, young Skywalker feels. If offered amnesty is, return on his own, he might.”

“But what kind of image will that promote?” Palpatine asks. “The people are already accusing the Jedi of starting this war and profiting from it. What will they say if we pardon an act of high treason out of hand?”

“I disagree,” Windu says. “If we issue a warrant for one of our own we will be accused of petty infighting.”

“I highly doubt General Skywalker’s reasons had anything to do with treason,” Padmé says.

“My dear, we are not talking about his reasons. We are talking about his _actions_ ,” Palpatine says.

“His actions?” Padmé snaps. “He defended the rights of the clone troopers under his command -- and I have _repeatedly_ brought a bill for enhanced clone rights before the Senate and been shot down -- and then he took soldiers under his command to the task force he was assigned, just as he has a thousand times before. His _actions_ do not appear treasonous in the slightest.”

“He ignored repeated orders to return to orbit as he was leaving,” Windu says.

Obi-Wan, who has been standing by the door in silence, speaks up. “He also said that the Republic and the Jedi are evil.” His face is troubled, and his hand strays to his chin as he speaks.

“Interesting,” Palpatine says. “I’m afraid I cannot take any risks. It sounds as though he might be dangerous.”

For the first time, Bail dares to intrude upon the conversation. “If the Republic issues a warrant for Skywalker’s arrest,” he says, “the Jedi order will be expected to expel him.”

“A serious thing, expulsion is,” says Yoda. “Not to be done lightly.”

“Serious indeed,” Palpatine says. “But I am afraid, given the situation, necessary.”

Everyone looks somber. “You cannot be serious,” Padmé says. “You can’t expel him without even giving him a chance to explain himself.”

“If he were _here_ , then he would have that chance,” Palpatine says, and for a moment Padmé thinks he sounds _unfriendly_.

Something chimes on Palpatine’s desk. Mas Amedda leans forward. “Chancellor, the Kaminoan delegation is here for their appointment.”

“Oh, show them in,” Palpatine says. “I am afraid we will have to continue this discussion at a later time, gentlemen.”

“Chancellor,” Bail says, “forgive the intrusion, but you have yet to finish reviewing our proposal. We must have your signature before we present it to the Senate.”

“I am sorry, Senator Organa,” Palpatine says. “You know how the Kaminoans are if they’re kept waiting. I’ll have to reschedule it.”

Padmé suddenly finds herself alarmed for a very different reason. “We had to wait months for this meeting!” she objects. “We cannot just reschedule it. This bill is time-sensitive.”

“I assure you, the Kaminoans also had to wait months, Senator. Rest assured our appointment will be of the highest priority.”

Padmé isn’t sure how she winds up outside Palpatine’s office with her small committee and the Jedi, but she does. The Jedi leave without speaking. Bail looks after them the way a bounty hunter looks at someone they haven’t been paid to kill, but who just cost them a payday, and then produces a datapad and begins trying to reschedule their meeting with Palpatine. “I’m going to retire to my apartment,” Padmé says, and he nods.

“I’ll send you the details once I have the meeting scheduled,” he says.

The walk back to her apartment is too long and gives her time to think, to wonder, and to rationalize. Why had Anakin just left? Why hadn’t he told her? What did he hope to accomplish? Surely he knew that there wouldn’t be a safe place in the Galaxy to hole up with twelve thousand clones? If he had deserted over the clones’ treatment, then whatever the catalyst had been must have been serious. The Galaxy is not friendly toward Republic clone troopers.

She enters her apartment, silent and still, and activates her holoprojector. She hails the _Resolute II_ but is greeted only by a message slowly rotating above her projector that the holoreciever she is trying to reach has been disconnected, and to contact her local maintenance center if the problem persists.

It’s then that it really sinks in for her that Anakin is gone. As idiotic as he can be, he’s not stupid. If finding him was as simple as tracing one of the many beacons installed in every Republic warship the Council wouldn’t have come to her. He doesn’t want to be found. She shuts the holoprojector down and steps out onto her balcony, wrapping her arms around herself as she stares out across the Coruscant skyline to the Jedi Temple.

“Mistress Padmé, you have a visitor,” says C-3PO from behind her.

“Not now, Threepio,” she says.

“I think you might want to speak to him. It’s Master Kenobi.”

Padmé stares in the direction of the Jedi Temple for a few more seconds before turning her back on it. “You’re right,” she says as she strides across her balcony and back into her sitting room. “I do want to speak to him.”

She’s surprised to see that Obi-Wan is not alone; Ahsoka Tano stands behind him, and Padmé doesn’t need the Force to see that she’s _angry_. “Master Kenobi, Padawan Tano,” she says. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Obi-Wan catches on to the hint of sarcasm in her tone and has the gall to look upset. “I thought you and Ahsoka both deserved to know the whole story,” he says.

“That’s surprisingly generous of you,” Padmé says. “Well, what happened?”

Obi-Wan sits down on her couch. Ahsoka remains standing, arms crossed over her chest. “One of Anakin’s clones was being recalled for reconditioning,” he says slowly. “I’m not sure of the details myself, but he -- well, he threatened Senate troops with his lightsaber.”

Padmé tries to imagine Anakin holding his lightsaber to the throat of a Senate commando. It’s a ridiculous image, but not entirely improbable.

“The Council summoned him and he became angry almost immediately.”

“So business as usual, then,” Ahsoka says, and despite the grim circumstances Padmé stifles a laugh.

“He accused us of not caring for the clones’ lives.” Obi-Wan forges ahead, looking troubled.

Padmé cuts him off before he can continue. “What exactly is ‘reconditioning’?” she asks.

Obi-Wan manages to look more troubled. “I’m not sure,” he says. “The Kaminoans keep their cloning practices very secret, including, well, _maintenance_.”

“Why was he being recalled?” Padmé asks. Perhaps there is an insight in the official notice.

“Unfortunately we don’t have access to that information, and Anakin didn’t say,” Obi-Wan says. “The only files we have on individual clones are their service records. We don’t even know which clone it was. Most of the 501st have black marks on their records after their last mission.”

He doesn’t offer any further insight into this last mission, and Padmé doesn’t ask. She instead gives voice to a more urgent objection. “You don’t have access to that information?” she says in disbelief. “How do you not have access to that information? You’re their commanding officers, aren’t you?”

“We are generals, Senator, nothing more. The clones serve the Republic directly. It’s standard procedure --”

“It is _not_ standard procedure!” Padmé says in horror. “All licensed militaries conduct disciplinary action through the commanding officer. It’s _required_.”

Ahsoka speaks up. “I think what Master Obi-Wan meant to say is that it’s standard procedure _for clones_ ,” she says. Everyone in the room knows the unspoken implication of that statement.

“The Jedi support your bids for clone rights, Senator,” Obi-Wan says, but he’s choosing his words carefully. “We all hope that after the war --”

“ _After the war_ ,” Padmé snaps back. “Do you know how long that will be, General Kenobi? And how many clones will die in it without even being given a choice? I think I understand the whole story. Thank you for your time.”

Obi-Wan takes the hint that it’s time for him to leave and stands to leave. He pauses by the door and half turns to look back at her. “I assure you, if the Jedi were a political body we would support you unwaveringly on the clone rights bills.”

“But you aren’t,” Padmé says. “In fact, these days, it seems like you’re set on being a military one.”

Obi-Wan leaves in silence. Ahsoka follows. Padmé sinks down onto her couch and wraps her arms around herself. The explanation has left her with more questions and most of them start with why. Why hadn’t Anakin come to her? There might have been something she could have done. Why had he deserted? He was proud to serve the Republic. Oh, he had told her several times that he didn’t think the system worked, but since the war had broken out he had devoted himself to defending the Republic with fierce loyalty. He’s good friends with the Chancellor. Why hadn’t he gone to the Chancellor?

Why doesn’t he _trust her_?

* * *

Outside, in the building’s hallway, Ahsoka wraps one hand around her upper arm, looking at the floor sadly as she speaks. “I think I understand why Anakin did what he did, but I’m still… well, I’m still hurt.”

“I think we all are,” Obi-Wan says. “Don’t worry, I doubt he meant to hurt you when he made his choice.”

“Well, he did,” Ahsoka says. “It’s just, we do everything together! Well, not _everything_ , but everything big.”

“Yes, you made that quite clear when you followed us to the Citadel,” Obi-Wan says. “Bear in mind, if you had gone with him you would also be facing expulsion now.”

“That’s the thing!” Ahsoka says. “I don’t think I’d have gone with him. I belong in the Jedi Temple. It’s my home. I don’t think the clones are treated fairly, but leaving isn’t the solution.” She pauses as they stop in front of an elevator. Obi-Wan presses the button and a soft chime sounds to indicate that the lift is on its way. “It’s just… Why doesn’t he trust me?”

Obi-Wan raises his eyes to the elevator door, still closed tight as he waits for the lift to arrive, and doesn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I've never written Ahsoka before. I think I've got a solid grasp on her personality, but I'm still in the toddler stages, so bear with me while I figure her out. It doesn't help that I'm trying to capture a very complicated emotion here, when you understand why someone acted the way they did but still think they're wrong.
> 
> seraf pointed out to me on the last chapter that there actually is a canon resource that explains reconditioning at least a little bit, _The Essential Guide to Warfare_. I haven't read this book, though I'll pick up a copy as soon as I can afford to. I do try to follow canon as closely as I can (I say as I write a major AU), but _Star Wars_ is such a huge canon and I definitely have not read everything. (Also a lot of my "canon knowledge" is still EU canon and not current canon.) So if I get anything wrong please do correct me.
> 
> Anyway in this chapter I've taken the liberty of assuming that the Jedi don't know exactly what reconditioning entails. I'm not sure if this is true or not but I am going to stick with that assumption for the purposes of this fic, because otherwise I can't really justify the way the Council behaved in Chapter 1.


	3. Jettison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Fives talk about their plans for the future and attempt to take out the garbage.

The beacon clatters to the floor of the _Resolute II_ ’s deck, wires sticking out every which way, emitting an obnoxious buzzing noise and flashing, alerting anyone who cares to know that it’s been tampered with. It’s silenced when Fives’ booted foot slams down on it, crushing all the vital components that keep it operating.

“That’s the last of them,” Anakin says, resting his arms on the edge of the maintenance hatch. “Hand me that welder. It was wired into the bulkhead between the fuel venting shaft and the maintenance shaft and there’s a hole there now.”

Fives hands him the tool. “I’m not a mechanic, sir,” he says, “but that doesn’t seem wise.”

Anakin vanishes into the shaft, but his voice echoes back to the trooper above. “Well, it’s not meant to be removed.” He says something else, but it’s drowned out by the whirring of the welder echoing around the enclosed space. A few minutes later, it stops and he climbs out, kicking the maintenance hatch closed behind him. “That should hold for now.”

“‘For now,’” Fives repeats uneasily.

“Eh, long enough.” Anakin shrugs and summons the remains of the beacon to his hand with the Force. He activates his comm. “Lieutenant Ritchie, Lieutenant Drive, status update.”

“Ritchie here,” comes a crackling response. “We think we’ve found and destroyed all the beacons abord the _Paladin_.”

“This is Drive. _Deliverance_ is clear,” comes the second response.

“Good,” Anakin says. “Jettison the beacons, just in case. Artoo will transmit the next set of hyperspace coordinates.” He begins walking down the hall, Fives following him.

“General, I’m curious,” Fives says. “Now that we’ve, well, deserted, what do we do?” His voice betrays that he’s not entirely comfortable with his new reality.

Anakin shrugs. “Whatever you want. You can stay with me, or you can leave and figure it out.”

“It’s just, most of us don’t have anywhere to go,” Fives says. “We don’t have many connections outside the GAR, and the connections we do have are back on Coruscant.”

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Anakin says. He stops in front of a trash receptacle and tosses the broken beacon into it. “Leaving is always an option.” He adjusts his comm and speaks into it. “Okay, Artoo, jettison the garbage.”

Fives hears a series of beeps echo back over the comm. Clones aren’t taught any language but basic, so he doesn’t understand the binary. Anakin does, though.

“What do you mean you can’t jettison the garbage?”

“ _Beep boop whee-oop!_ ”

“It’s not a computer-delegated task?” He lowers the comm for a moment, confusion showing clearly on his face. “How old are these buckets? They haven’t built star cruisers with manual maintenance protocols in thirty years.” He raises his wrist again. “Okay, Artoo, where are the manual controls?” Beeping that, if Fives didn’t know better, might have sounded irritated. “Okay, okay. Rex, do you know where the manual controls are?”

“Sir, the 501st is a ground unit,” Rex responds, his voice crackling slightly over the comm. “We’re only given basic emergency training on operating Jedi cruisers.”

“Artoo, send me the ship’s schematics,” Anakin says. R2-D2 acknowledges with another string of beeps and Anakin produces a handheld shortwave holoprojector. A little projection of the _Resolute II_ appears above it, a few smaller rooms helpfully marked in red.

“We’re close to that one,” Fives points out.

“Let’s check it out,” Anakin says.

It isn’t the first, or the second, or the third room they check. Those rooms are two supply closets containing cleaning supplies and a small empty room with a computer terminal that doesn’t connect to any of the ship’s systems. Nobody knows what it is for. The fourth room they check, however, is full of panel after panel of switches with helpful labels like “Atmosphere Composition Valve” and “Water Recycle and Purification Protocol”.

Anakin uneasily raises his comm again. “Artoo, do you have access to water or atmosphere maintenance?” Even Fives recognizes the answering beep as a negative. Anakin grumbles unintelligibly, but he moves forward into the room and starts combing it for the garbage maintenance controls. Fives follows.

As it turns out, the atmosphere and water maintenance controls are two of about fifteen that are properly labeled. Beyond that the labeling system seems to be abbreviations carved straight into the metal of the panel with a sharp object; DS, FBR, MMU. A fine labeling system for the people that regularly work there, perhaps, but not of much use to inexperienced users. Anakin and Fives throw out possible meanings for the acronyms as they read them. “Forward Barracks Radiators?” “Why would we want to radiate the barracks?” “Not all radiation is bad.” “Where do you suppose the aft barracks radiators are, then?” “I wouldn’t know, sir. These don’t seem to be organized at all.”

It’s at that point that Anakin pulls out his comm again. “Artoo, send me a copy of the JC-VC-1.8 manual. What? I know what a point eight looks like, Artoo. Well, what is it then? Okay, then send me _that_ manual. What do you mean, there is no manual?”

He is silent for a moment as R2-D2 starts to explain himself with a long series of expressive beeps and whistles. Anakin cuts him off before he is done, though. “No, _system hoppers_ don’t have manuals. Warships have --” It’s Anakin’s turn to be cut off as Artoo beeps indignantly.

“What is it, General?” Fives says.

Anakin looks righteously angry. “Apparently we were running short on new warships so some _wermo_ took a decommissioned VC-1.6 and stuffed it into the shell of a point eight.” He sits down in one of the chairs and unlocks the panel, lifting it up to expose the wiring below. “Aw, kriff,” he mumbles as he takes it in. “Artoo, send me the point six manual. I’ll see what I can do.”

As Anakin sets up his holoprojector with the manual open and leans over the control panel, Fives shifts his weight and gathers his thoughts. It’s common knowledge in the 501st that this is the best time to approach the General with things he might not want to hear; he’s calmest when he’s picking apart a droid, repairing a speeder, or adding borderline-illegal gadgets to his astromech.

“General, when we left you told us we were leaving the Republic that enslaved us.” He’s paraphrasing.

Anakin glances up from the mess of wires and fuses. “Yeah,” he says noncommitally but dangerously. Still, he seems to be waiting to see where Fives’ line of reasoning is going.

_I never really saw service to the Republic as slavery_ , Fives thinks. He isn’t going to say that. He remembers all too well the General’s palpable rage from Kiros, even though he had only seen it from a distance. This is a topic that needs to be approached cautiously.

“We were raised to have a purpose in life,” Fives says. “Service of something greater. And a lot of us… _I_ believed in it.”

Anakin looks angry, and Fives _hopes_ it’s not directed at him. “That’s slavery, Fives. When someone demands you sacrifice yourself to something or someone else and doesn’t even give you a choice.”

“People who put themselves ahead of everything else are…” _Krell_ , he thinks.

“Trust me, you’re so much bantha _poodoo_ to the Republic,” Anakin says. “You’re a blaster that can think for itself.” He turns back to his control panel. “The Kaminoans make clones and sell them as slaves, the Republic buys them, and the Jedi use them. I didn’t _make_ anyone come with me.”

“No, sir,” Fives says. “We’re here because we’re a little more loyal to you than the Republic.”

Anakin traces a wire from the base of the control panel and through a crazed tangle, frowning. “I’m not your CO anymore. You don’t owe me loyalty.”

“Loyalty isn’t owed, General. It’s earned.”

Anakin lowers the control panel back into place and presses a switch. A screen lights up, reading, “Garbage disposal sequence initiating… Ready.” Anakin presses another switch. The screen blinks again; “Garbage disposal sequence in progress… Completed.”

“I’ll get that hooked up to the main computer eventually,” Anakin says, apparently in lieu of responding to Fives’ comment. He activates his comm. “Beacons are jettisoned. Send the signal to jump to hyperspace.”

“Copy that, sir,” says Rex.

Anakin turns and walks out of the maintenance room, pausing only for a second when the ship jolts into hyperspace. “What do you _want_ , Fives?”

Fives falls into step beside him as Anakin starts down the hall toward the lift. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

The lift is at their level, and the door opens immediately. “What’s important to you? What do you want to do with your life?”

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

“You have time,” Anakin says. “In the meantime, I could use all the help I can get, if you’re up for it.”

“Up for what?” Fives asks as the lift doors open on the command bridge.

Fives isn’t Force-sensitive at all, but he can see anger suddenly flash in every taut line of Anakin Skywalker’s body. “There are other slavers in the Galaxy besides the Republic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter was like dragging a Christmas tree backwards through a swamp with one hand tied behind my back.
> 
> 1\. I definitely believe that most of the 501st would follow Anakin if he was like, "Hey, we're deserting, get in the star destroyer," especially after Umbara. I do not believe they would all agree with his sudden ideas of slavery. Nobody wants to believe they're a slave.  
> 2\. We apparently have shockingly little information, from either Canon or Legends, fully explaining how waste disposal works in _Star Wars_. This from the series that came up with a backstory for that guy running around with an ice cream maker during the evacuation of Bespin. I wound up making a lot of assumptions about it, the most relevant of which is that star destroyers don't have trash compactors.  
> 3\. There are multiple entire people out there who find the trash compactor scene from _A New Hope_ to be the least believable thing about _Star Wars_ and claim it breaks the suspension of disbelief. And have written essays about it.  
> 4\. Sometimes I misspell "Skywalker" as "Skylarker".
> 
> I have chosen not to translate R2-D2's dialogue into English, instead leaving the reader to imagine what he said based on the reaction of the characters. I would never be able to approach the level of adorable and insightful achieved by Jen425 in [For the Republic](https://archiveofourown.org/series/900666), which you should all read if you haven't already. If you're here it probably is relevant to your interests.


	4. Conceive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padmé is left to deal with the aftermath.

It is the Republic, and not the Jedi, who issue a warrant for the arrest of Anakin Skywalker. This distinction is insignificant, of course; a Jedi arrest warrant and a Republic one are functionally the same during the Clone Wars.

Somehow, there had been no rumors of Anakin’s desertion before the arrest warrant was released, side by side with warrants for nearly every clone in the 501st legion. These are patently ridiculous, Padmé thinks as she pages through them. Every picture is exactly the same allowing for variations in hair color and tattoos, easily hidden features. In addition, the warrants do not list the clones’ _names_ , but their operating numbers, and she is more than willing to bet that _no one_ knows who CT-6189 is, except perhaps his commanding officer.

Overtaken with numb curiosity, she redirects her datapad to a different system, one she is not technically supposed to be able to access from her senatorial office on a Republic-issue datapad. As she suspected, there is also a new bounty on Anakin’s head for a truly outrageous number of credits. Doesn’t the Republic have better things to set aside a million credits for?

“Mistress Padmé, Senator Organa is here,” C-3PO says.

“Show him in, please,” Padmé says, closing out the bounty and straightening up in her office seat.

Threepio acknowledges with a stiff bow and leaves, returning a few moments later with Bail Organa in tow.

“Senator Amidala,” Bail begins, and then stops, his expression softening slightly. Padmé belatedly realizes that her screen had reverted to Anakin’s arrest warrant. “So they released it.”

“Yes,” Padmé says. She considers closing the screen, but Bail had already seen it.

“I’m sorry,” he says. I know you’re… close.”

“Thank you, Bail,” she says. “But something tells me you didn’t come here to console me over Anakin Skywalker facing the consequences of his own actions.”

“I need you to speak to the Chancellor,” he says, quickly changing gears. “I can’t reschedule our meeting with him until next month.”

“But that’s after the vote!” Padmé exclaims. “Our proposal cannot be introduced as an alternative without the Chancellor’s signature.”

“Yes, and I can’t get in to speak with him,” Bail says. “I thought you might be able to talk some sense into him.”

Padme closes out the arrest warrant and picks up her datapad. “I’ll speak to him,” she says.

As she walks past Bail toward the door of her office, he grabs her arm. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks quietly.

Padmé grants herself the luxury of considering that question honestly for a moment. Finally, she says, “I appreciate your concern, but we’re senators, Bail. We can hardly afford to fall apart every time something goes wrong in our personal lives.” With that she walks past him, into the halls of the Senate building.

Getting into Palpatine’s office takes over an hour. Other delegates are coming and going on their appointments, and every time she tries to slip in between two meetings, the guards at the doors physically bar her way. And once she does get in, Palpatine is concerned and regretful, but assures her that all of the meetings before the vote are equally time-sensitive and that he cannot reschedule any of them. Padmé considers, for roughly eighteen seconds, trying to convince him to approve their proposal right then and there. She will not stoop to violating so many regulations, however, regardless of how many other senators she knows do it regularly.

Finally, she decides that there will be no convincing Palpatine, which leaves her the unpleasant recourse of delaying the vote. She respectfully bows her head to him and exits his office, then proceeds to walk down the halls toward her own office.

Bail is still there when she arrives, and he has been joined by Mon Mothma. They are standing in front of her holoprojector, which has been set to a news station. She is about to announce the results of her endeavor, but when she notices what is playing on the news station she stops. _The Jedi Order has expelled Anakin Skywalker_. There’s a holorecording of Yoda, that, judging by the look on Bail and Mon’s faces, has been played several times already. He is leaning on his gimer stick, looking old and sad as he has all too often since the War started. “Expelled Skywalker from the Jedi Order, we have,” he says, and the news station can’t trim the video tight enough to hide the fact that he turns to leave immediately after this statement.

The reporter appears again, but Padmé doesn’t hear what she says. She walks over and shuts off the holoprojector. “The Chancellor was _regretfully unable_ to reschedule our meeting,” she says. “We’ll have to delay the vote.”

There’s a pause. “I don’t know how long we can delay it,” Bail says.

“It’s been on the floor for months,” Mon adds, and Padmé’s glad they’ve chosen not to address the shaak in the room.

“We can’t let it pass as is,” Padmé says, and they nod in agreement. Chancellor Palpatine, they all agree, has amassed too much power over the course of the war. At this point it is too late to stop the steady flow of more and more power into the chancellor’s office, but they can at least try to slow it.

They speak a little longer, discussing possible methods for delaying the vote. If they can convince enough other senators that they might get something out of it, they might be able to put a motion on the floor to delay it, and this is their preferred method. They could, of course, raise other issues in the interest of distracting from the bill in question, but there’s a certain risk to that; many senators will insist upon passing a bill of this magnitude without fully discussing it rather than table it for later. Filibustering is always an option, but it’s one they try to avoid. As dedicated public servants there is something distasteful about abusing their senatorial privileges, even if it is in the service of the greater good.

Eventually Bail and Mon take their leave, and Padmé is finally able to process the fact that Anakin had been expelled while she was in her meeting with Palpatine, which means that he had not been expelled for almost two standard hours after the arrest warrant had been issued. For two absurd hours her husband had been both a fugitive from Republic justice _and_ a Jedi knight, and she slowly sinks down on her desk chair to laugh at this. In times like these, she has to find humor wherever she can.

* * *

A month later sees the vote on the Executive Power Reallocation Act successfully delayed, so far, and for that Padmé is grateful. She suspects that it cannot last much longer, though, as she steps out of her senatorial pod after an exhausting early morning session of the senate. Senator Ask Aak from Malastare had accused her of trying to delay the vote, in a tone that implied it paramount to treason. Padmé had valiantly resisted the urge to roll her eyes and explain as if to a child that she had made no secret of her desire to delay the vote, instead calmly pointing out that not all options had yet been explored. Orn Free Taa of Ryloth had insisted that the vote was too important to be put off.

“I agree,” Padmé had said. “This vote _is_ important, which is why moving forward with it before it has been thoroughly discussed is foolish. We are the representatives of thousands of worlds, of trillions of beings, and we cannot afford to make decisions rashly, not when they affect hundreds of thousands of people!”

The conversation had gone nowhere constructive from there, and now Padmé climbs into a speeder flying away from the senate building, feeling a little bit sick. Her senatorial colleagues often make her feel just a little bit sick, but this is the fourth time this week that she’s left a senate session and immediately felt the need to make for the ‘fresher, and accordingly she’s scheduled an appointment with her doctor. She had been inclined to ignore it at first, but had eventually decided that she could not risk coming down with something at this critical time. _Or any critical time_ , she thinks with a mental sigh.

The speeder stops at a platform outside the Regis Coruscanti Hospital, and Padmé climbs out and asks her driver to wait for her there. She walks across the platform and checks in at the desk, then takes a lift to level twenty-seven. Her primary care physician’s office is here and she settles on a chair in the waiting room. While she waits she flicks through some notes on her datapad, adding observations and comments from this morning’s session. She doesn’t have long to wait, however, before her name is called and she saves her notes and heads into her doctor’s office.

Dr. Rus Dak is a short fat gran with smooth brown skin and a kind disposition. She has served as Padmé’s primary care physician since she first came to Coruscant almost three years ago, and Padmé has never had any complaints. The doctor sits Padmé down now and begins asking the usual questions; has she noticed anything else out of the ordinary? Is she eating normally? Is she sexually active? Padmé has always been honest about this, and Dr. Dak had never asked for the identity of her partner.

Dr. Dak asks all her questions and makes notes on her datapad, and then solemnly looks up and asks her if she has taken a pregnancy test.

“No,” Padmé says slowly. “Are you saying…”

“It could be several things,” Dr. Dak says. “But I’d like to rule out pregnancy first.” Padmé feels a swelling sense of relief as she gets up and begins to dig through a drawer. She’s not ready to have children, especially not _now_. When Dr. Dak hands her the test she walks to the ‘fresher calmly and sets about taking it, confident that it will come back negative and she and Dr. Dak can move on to find out what the real problem is. Stress, in all likelihood, or perhaps a mild stomach virus.

It comes back positive, and Padmé leans against the sink with one hand, clutching the little device in the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think Luke and Leia were canonically conceived this early. But. I need them in the story and Padmé and Anakin aren't going to be in the same physical location for a good long while so they get an advance payday on life.
> 
> I had like a huge essay written out here but these are the end notes on a fanfic so here are the cliffnotes:
> 
> 1\. Padmé's pregnancy was handled very badly and unrealistically in canon. (Among other things she doesn't appear to have sought out any prenatal care whatsoever.) I'm going to change like ten thousand things about it because I just can't bring myself to consciously write that many wrong things. I'll note what they are when they become relevant.  
> 2\. Birth control apparently does exist in _Star Wars_ , despite all evidence to the contrary.  
> 3\. This doesn't have anything to do with anything but in Legends the Gran were native to Kinyen and in the new canon they are native to Malastare? Why? Did Disney feel the need to change this? I can't seem to find a reason for this. If anyone knows why this is the case please tell me it's really bugging me.  
> 4\. I don't anticipate it becoming relevant but the act Padmé and friends are trying to get approved is an addendum to a bill on the floor that would grant the Chancellor the power to executively decide where electricity is routed, which is a bad idea for multiple reasons. If he should so desire, he could pull power from a random neighborhood in Coruscant and redirect it to, say the mood lighting in a super secret Sith lair built underneath the senate building, as a completely random non-specific example. The gang isn't trying to prevent the bill from passing; judging by the deleted RotS scenes I suspect they'd mostly figured out by this point that Palpatine wasn't going to stop amassing power. Basically they're trying to amend it to include a clause that would require major changes to be submitted to a committee for review before they went into effect. Better than nothing. Why do they need the Chancellor's signature on this? Uh. Probably because of some other BS bill that passed earlier.
> 
> The best part about _Star Wars_ politics is that they don't need to make that much sense.


	5. Liberate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and the 501st take their freedom into their own hands.

Rex declares that the Zygerrians will begin killing slaves as soon as they realize they are under attack, which is why the _Resolute II_ exits hyperspace dangerously close to the planet on which they’ve discovered a Zygerrian processing facility. This is an agricultural facility, unlike Kadavo, which had focused on processing raw minerals.

All three flight units are prepped and ready to go as soon as the ship settles into realspace. Anakin leads Gold Squadron as they exit the flight deck and shoot towards the processing facility hovering thousands of feet above the ground. Rex’s voice crackles through Anakin’s comm. “They’re hailing us, General.”

“Do not respond,” Anakin says. With luck, they’ll waste time and energy trying to contact them before they start killing slaves. He sees the other squadrons in his periferal, all making for the facility below. He’s been able to see it, as a tiny dot above the yellow-green of the planet’s surface, since he took off, but now, as he adjusts his fighter for atmospheric flight, it’s starting to take shape, looking much like the facility on Kadavo had.

“Planetary scan complete,” comes a clone’s voice. “Most life forms are concentrated in this facility.”

“Good,” Anakin says.

“Jam all communications out of the system,” Rex supplies.

“Already done,” comes the reply.

The first blasts of defensive laserfire streak towards Anakin, and he twists his fighter to evade it. Behind him, his squadron follows his example and Artoo beeps excitedly. “We’ll be fine,” Anakin tells him, even as a group of Zygerrian fighters take off to meet them. Anakin isn’t worried about the fighters; they go down just like any other ship. It’s the towers that concern him, four of them looming over the four sides of the facility, just as they had on Kadavo. And as he comes within range and takes the first shot at the towers, his other fear is confirmed; just as they had been on Kadavo, these towers are ray shielded.

“The towers are ray shielded,” he tells the other fighters.

“None of our fighters have enough firepower to penetrate ray shields!” says Gold Five.

“You worry about those fighters,” Anakin says, twisting his fighter into a spin as a Zygerrian fighter takes a shot at him. “I’ll worry about the towers.”

Artoo beeps inquisitively. “Don’t worry about it. Just get ready to eject,” Anakin says. The responding beeps carry heavy disapproval and Anakin cracks a smile. Truth be told, he wouldn’t normally even consider this, but speed is of the essence. He twists around, mostly ignoring the Zygerrian fighter behind him, and lines the nose of his fighter up with the closest tower. “Divert all power to the engines,” he says, and then dips into the Force, listening for the whispered warnings that tell him exactly where the deadly lasers are and which way to twist the fighter to avoid them. His fighter closes on the tower, which begins to turn towards him too late, and at the last possible second Anakin shouts, “Now!” and yanks his emergency ejection lever.

The ray shields are tuned to detect incoming laser bolts and activate to absorb them. An incoming fighter doesn’t trigger the security system, and the top of the tower collapses under the impact and then explodes along with the fighter. Anakin senses this, more than sees it. He’d used the Force to propel himself away from his fighter’s seat before the automated safety system activated, concealing it in a shielded bubble. So close to the facility, he doesn’t need it, instead reaching out with the force to straighten himself and cusion his fall. Above him, his ejected seat is eradicated by offensive fire. A clone closes in after the Zygerrian fighter and takes it out with two quick, precise shots to the engines.

“General?” a voice crackles across his comm.

Anakin gets to his feet, glancing around to locate Artoo, who has activated his repulsors and is slowly coming down to land nearby. “I’m on the facility,” Anakin says. “The south tower’s out of commission; start bringing in the gunships.”

Anakin activates his lightsaber as the Zygerrian guards on the platform turn toward him. With grim satisfaction he deflects their blasterfire, taking down most of them with quick, clean Form V Shien. The last two are between him and the west tower, and these he takes down with two lightning fast strikes as he runs toward them, killing both before they realize their danger.

He flings himself to the top of the west tower and opens the top hatch. Same as last time, the Zygerrians inside are unprepared and he kills both and then takes control of the tower, destroying the remaining two. “Towers are down,” he says. “Gunships can land. I’m going to find the slaves.”

Acknowledgement crackles over the comms as Anakin swipes his lightsaber through the tower’s controls so it can’t be turned against them and then climbs out and throws himself to the platform below. He runs for the nearest door, where he finds R2-D2 plugged into a computer terminal. Artoo beeps at him as he approaches. Anakin doesn’t waste any time, igniting his lightsaber and plunging it into the door. “Where are the slaves?” Anakin asks, and Artoo warbles out a reply.

Anakin is mostly through the door when the screen beside him flickers to life and the face of a Zygerrian appears on it. “Jedi,” the Zygerrian spits. “If you do not recall your forces immediately all the slaves will be terminated.”

The scene is laughably familiar, and Anakin doesn’t even stop cutting through the door as he replies, “I’ll make you regret every slave you kill when I get in there, scum.”

The Zygerrian pulls back and a Twi’lek boy is revealed, hands cuffed in front of him, dressed in ragged clothes and shaking with fear. There’s a guard behind him, holding a rifle to the child’s head. There’s fear in the slave master’s voice; flat refusal, apparently, was not a response he expected. “Can you really handle this child’s death on your conscience?”

Anakin doesn’t reply. He Force-shoves the circle he’s cut out of the door inwards and leaps through. This facility seems to follow the same layout as the Kadavo one and he’s close to the command center. He rounds one corner, then the second, and he sees the command center’s door is wide open. It starts to close as someone inside sees him coming, but he puts on a burst of speed and dives through the panels before they lock. He comes out of a roll already swinging and the guard threatening the child is the first to die. The kid screams and covers his head as the lightsaber sweeps by, but Anakin has already moved on and is making short work of the other Zygerrians. The slave master has lunged for a control panel and is starting to type something into it, but Anakin doesn’t let him finish. He’s on the other side of the room, but he raises his free hand and clenches his fist and the Zygerrian stumbles backwards, gasping for breath and scrabbling at his own throat.

Anakin flings him against the wall and then turns back to the door, which has opened to reveal a few guards. He flings their own blaster bolts back at them and then turns to the slave master, who is clutching his side and gasping for breath.

He looks up at Anakin, almost ferally pleased. “It is good to see the Jedi have given up their weak, peace-loving ways,” he snarls.

“Guess you missed the memo,” Anakin replies. “I’m not a Jedi anymore.”

“Yes, you are,” the Zygerrian snarls. “You’re more a Jedi than the fools in your Temple. The Jedi our empire swore vengeance on were like you. Willing to kill for their beliefs. And it is your --”

Anakin uses the Force to yank the slave master toward him and impales him on his lightsaber’s shining blue blade.

He extinguishes his lightsaber, dropping the Zygerrian’s body, and turns to the slave boy, who is staring at him with wide, terrified eyes. “Where are the rest of the slaves?” Anakin asks.

The boy doesn’t answer and it occurs to Anakin that perhaps he doesn’t speak Basic. Anakin’s Twi’leki is rough, and, laking lekku, he can’t communicate a lot of intangible ideas. He knows enough to ask the boy where his people are, though, and the boy cautiously points down the hall and then takes off. Anakin follows, and the two of them meet R2-D2 at the nearest junction, beeping indignantly at being left behind. A gunship’s worth of clones are following him. “What’s going on out there?” Anakin asks.

“A few enemy fighters are still flying,” a clone reports. “We’ve established a landing zone and are clearing as much of the facility as we can.”

Anakin nods. “Stick close. The kid’s taking me to the rest of the slaves and it’d be nice to have an escort.”

“Yes, sir!” the clone says, saluting quickly and signalling his men to follow. The little group makes its way down the hall and the boy eventually leads them to a door, which he points at wordlessly before scrambling behind Artoo, who whistles opinionatedly. Anakin examines the door controls; it isn’t locked from this side. He suspects that there simply isn’t an opening mechanism on the other side.

The room is large and empty, just a floor and four walls, and it’s full of very much alive slaves. It’s a relief; Anakin remembers all too well the way Keeper Argus had tried to kill all of the Togruta people on Kadavo. Most of them are Twi’leks, but a few other species are mixed in, and all eye Anakin and the clones with weary suspicion. Anakin sympathises; they have no way of knowing if their new situation will be better than their old.

The little boy runs into the room toward a Twi’lek woman, who catches him and picks him up. He says something quickly, waving an arm at Anakin, and the woman looks at him with something approaching hope in her eyes. Anakin steps forward. “Are any of you seriously injured?” he asks.

“No,” the woman says decisively. “We want to leave.”

Anakin nods and activates his comm. “Are we clear to bring in the _Resolute_ to pick up the slaves?” he asks.

“Bringing it in now,” Rex confirms. “West landing platform.”

“Copy that,” Anakin says. He turns to the troopers with him. “Let’s start clearing a path out there.” The troops fan out as Anakin turns to the slaves. “Alright, people, form a group. Keep your children and injured in the middle and follow our lead.”

They follow, a few somewhat reluctantly, but all in agreement that their situation can’t possibly get worse. Anakin takes point, lightsaber in hand but unignited. The troops have cleared the area with their usual efficient effectiveness. They encounter no guards inside the facility, and once they exit it and reach the platform, the only Zygerrians in sight are yards away, fighting in small groups. They stand no chance of success, however; some of them have rifles but most are armed only with energy whips that stand no chance against the practical blasters and rifles that the clone troopers carry.

The _Resolute II_ approaches, slowly rotating into position as it docks at the landing platform. The clones usher the slaves forward as the boarding ramp begins to lower.

Anakin activates his comm. “Be ready to blow this place to hell on my signal, Rex,” he says.

“Copy that,” Rex says. Anakin glances around. He sees no guards, and there are clones stationed strategically around the rather large group of slaves as they start to move into the cruiser. He turns and runs back into the command center. They’d dumped their long-distance holorecievers with the tracking beacons; it wasn’t their primary purpose, but Republic-issue holorecievers could easily be traced with the proper equipment; it was another safety measure to keep cruisers from being stolen. The Zygerrian holoreciever isn’t meant to be removed from the command center, but Anakin doesn’t need all of it. He uses the Force to pry open a panel and dig through the wires until he finds the long-distance holoreciever component. It _looks_ compatible, and if it isn’t he’s confident he can make it compatible. Clutching the device in his hand, he turns and leaves the command center, paying no mind to the bodies he’d left lying on the floor before.

The now-former slaves are almost all onto the ship when he returns to the landing platform. There are a few new Zygerrian bodies lying on the ground nearby. Anakin follows as the clones start to retreat up the ramp, still guarding against any surprise attacks.

The last being crosses the threshold and Anakin activates his comm as the boarding ramp begins to retract behind him. “Is everyone accounted for?”

The soundoff that follows doesn’t take long. “Accounted for” doesn’t mean dead or alive. It means they aren’t leaving anyone behind, and in this case it’s a series of affirmatives from squad leaders and leuitenants.

“Let’s get out of here,” Anakin says, and he doesn’t look back as the cruiser pulls away from the facility. But he senses in the Force the moment the turbolasers connect with one of the facility’s essential repulsorlifts, sending it spiraling toward the ground below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So based on various comments and PMs I got since I posted the last chapter, it seems like I'm gonna need to elaborate a little bit on Padmé's pregnancy. I say she didn't receive prenatal care in canon because at the end of RotS she was 7~9 months pregnant and didn't realize she was carrying twins. It's _really_ easy to tell when you are carrying twins, due to there being up to twice as much baby as expected inside your body. This becomes obvious _really_ early, often before two months. There are occasions when it's not obvious, but this is usually tied to one of several possible health issues with the babies or mother, and canonically none of those issues were present with Padmé and her children. I can justify Padmé and Anakin not knowing they were having twins; it was after all, their first, and they had no idea what to look for. But an actual obstetrician? No. There's no possible way Padmé received prenatal care, or if she did, it was from an absolute quack.
> 
> Anyway, on to this chapter. I don't have a ton to say about it. It was rough; I had to rewrite about two pages of it a couple of times and I cut out about a page's worth, but I think I stitched the ends together well. First action-heavy chapter. I have a bit of trouble describing action so that's probably partially why.
> 
> I knew when I decided to write this that sooner or later I would have to write Anakin violently murdering someone or other in cold blood, but that didn't make it significantly easier to write. Helps that this guy pretty much deserves whatever he gets.
> 
> At one point I was sitting in a café writing and I pulled up _Escape from Kadavo_ on Netflix for reference and some guy told me not to watch porn in public so uh. Yeah.


	6. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin makes a long overdue call. The Council discusses rumors.

Padmé makes a habit of answering unknown calls on her holoreciever. They are usually advertisements, but her work frequency is public. It allows her to keep abreast of what the people want and hear opinions directly from them.

Still, she’s had a stressful day and considers ignoring the call when it comes just moments before she was about to leave her office. But she’s known as the people’s representative in the Senate, the one who goes out of her way to investigate the way their decisions affect the average citizen and there’s a reason she does that. She tiredly walks over to her holoreciever and puts on her best diplomat face. “Senator Amidala’s office,” she says by way of greeting.

It’s Anakin. He stares at her in silence for a moment and then speaks. “Padmé,” he says.

Padmé doesn’t stop to think. “I’m pregnant,” she says.

Anakin looks shocked for a moment. She sees the full range of emotions pass over his face, so she _knows_ that he knows exactly what this means. “That’s wonderful,” he says. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“It’s too early to tell,” she says, smiling a little at the thought despite the pressing circumstances. “Ani, what are we going to do?”

She thinks he struggles with his reply. “We’re not going to worry about anything,” he says quietly.

Padmé can’t meet his eyes as she says, “I’m going to say I went to a bank. When they ask.”

He’s angry. Anakin has always worn his heart on his sleeve, a strange trait for a Jedi but one she had found undeniably attractive. But right now it means she can see every bit of the hurt he feels at that announcement on his flickering blue face. On the one hand, she can’t blame him, but on the other, he has to understand that Padmé can’t be married to Anakin Skywalker the outlaw any more than she can be married to Anakin Skywalker the Jedi Knight. She’s considered it, of course. She could easily claim the child hadn’t been concieved until _after_ Anakin had been expelled from the Order, but that would only replace the taboo of having seduced a Jedi with that of having seduced a criminal. One is social suicide; the other is treason.

Deciding to cut him off before he gets started, she quickly says, “Ani, our child can’t grow up with a traitor for a father. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”

Padmé isn’t entirely certain whether he’s about to start yelling or brooding; either is fairly likely. He opts for yelling. “Oh, so I’m a traitor now?”

“I didn’t say that, Ani,” Padmé says.

“Yes, you did.”

“Treason is what it says on the warrant for your arrest, Anakin,” Padmé says sharply. “Which is something that exists because you _left_.” She’d defended him in front of the chancellor and the Jedi Council, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t owe _her_ an explanation.

“They were going to --” Anakin stops suddenly, like he’s suddenly realized that he doesn’t know how his own sentence ends. “I did it for my troops.” He pauses. “Do you know what reconditioning is?”

“No,” Padmé says.

“Well, neither do I,” Anakin says, and his voice shows that he’s none too happy about that. “It’s some kind of disciplinary threat that’s held over their heads, and even they don’t really know what it is.”

“Surely there are other measures you could have taken,” Padmé says. “Do you _know_ how much they’re offering for information leading to your arrest? And there’s a Republic-issued bounty on your head for _a million credits_.”

“It never bothered you when it was just the Separatists,” Anakin snaps.

“It should bother _you_ ,” Padmé replies.

This is the point at which Anakin normally leaves, or hangs up, or starts guilting her into dropping everything so they can spend some quality time ignoring all their problems together. Surprisingly, he doesn’t this time. He stops, takes a moment, and then speaks. “It’s in the past, Padmé,” he says. “Let’s not worry about it. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“I don’t want my child to grow up without a father,” Padmé says, certain he’s missing the point.

“They won’t,” Anakin says. He sounds confident. “We’ll figure something out. I need your help.”

Padmé can see his regret at having to change the subject. Even so, she considers telling him off for it, and insisting he explain to her how they’re going to be anything even remotely resembling a family. She doesn’t really want to know what he has in mind, though. It’s probably reckless and dangerous and she can live for a few more weeks without knowing. “Okay,” she says slowly. “What is it?”

“I have about five hundred refugees who need help and no place to drop them off,” Anakin says.

“Refugees from what?” Padmé asks.

The answer is supremely unsurprising, if a little unexpected. “A Zygerrian slave processing facility.”

“So you set out to rescue slaves without a plan for what to do with them after you rescued them,” Padmé says.

“Hey,” Anakin says defensively. “I had a plan. I was going to take them back to their home system. But they’re mostly from Ryloth.”

Unfortunately, he doesn’t need to elaborate. Anakin can’t go anywhere near Ryloth; it’s a hotly contested battleground where both sides will be out to get him and his men. Even if he could, she’s heard reports of the people there starving, and there’s a fair chance many of them would be killed in the fighting, or captured and sold into slavery again. The former slaves will find little help on their home planet, and more likely than not be a burden on their people who are still there.

Her brief hesitation apparently convinces Anakin that he does need to elaborate, though. “They need help, Padmé. We can’t afford to keep them on the fleet and we can’t just leave them somewhere.”

Padmé sighs. “I’ll see what I can do, Ani,” she says. “Is this your normal frequency?”

“Yes,” Anakin says. “I’ll find a way to let you know if it changes.”

“All right,” she says. “And Ani, be careful.”

“I will,” he says. “I love you.” And then he hangs up.

Padmé sits back down behind her desk, all dreams of leaving for the day banished. She’s sure Anakin doesn’t quite understand what he’s asking, but she still feels a trace of irritation at him. She can’t just comm up the nearest system in the habit of accepting refugees and ask them to allow a traitor to the Republic to dock at their ports and drop off five hundred beings. This is a tricky operation. She’ll have to choose a system that won’t turn Anakin in, as well as one that has the resources necessary to care for the freed slaves. Both are plentiful in the Republic, but both _together_ is essential, and she doesn’t have any room for errors.

The first planet she considers and rejects is her own home planet of Naboo. Oh, they would do it. Her people have a great deal of respect for both her and Anakin, and she knows that she hardly has to ask for them to shelter refugees. But the Festival of Lights is rapidly approaching, and the chancellor himself will be there. Not only does she distrust Palpatine, but Republic security forces are already sweeping the planet system for any security threat. Headed, of course, by trusted Naboo security, but it would only take one stray rumor heard by any single Republic security officer to bring the entire operation down on their heads. No, Naboo is not a good choice.

From there the list only grows shorter as she considers planet after planet. The situation on Toydaria is tricky, Alderaan is too close to Coruscant, Pantora is too near Hutt space. And while she trusts the senators and ruling bodies of these planets implicitly, there is a great deal of pressure put on Republic planets to prove their loyalty. The possibility of some government official or other securing his planet’s position by turning in a traitor is one she cannot ignore. It is also possible that any one of these governments might refuse to help in order to avoid compromising their own position in the Republic.

Before she knows it, her list is empty. There’s no Republic planet that fits all of her qualifications. She sighs, and is about to go through the list again with lower standards when the thought occurs to her that perhaps her answer doesn’t lie within the Republic. It carries its own slew of risks, but when loyalty to the Republic is factored out of the equation, a whole world of possibilities opens.

She activates her holoprojector and puts in a call to a familiar frequency. It’s answered almost immediately. The woman on the other end smiles at the sight of her. “Ah, Senator Amidala. What a welcome surprise.”

Padmé smiles in return. “It’s been too long,” she says. “It’s good to see you, Satine, but I have a favor to ask.”

* * *

“I fail to see the problem,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard as he settles back into his seat. The council room is dim in the late evening light, but he can clearly see the faces of his fellow councilmembers.

“You fail to see the problem with Skywalker using the 501st Legion as a private military?” Mace Windu says, eyes serious as he regards Obi-Wan.

“If that was a Republic target, it would have been an act of terrorism,” Shaak Ti says.

“It wasn’t a Republic target,” Obi-Wan points out. He taps on his datapad, bringing up what details they have of the incident. “In fact, not only was the planet Separatist-aligned, it seems to have been a Zygerrian protectorate. I can assure you, what Anakin attacked was not a...” He pauses and swipes to the next page of information. “‘ _Farming colony_ ’.”

Nobody misses the derisive emphasis on those words. “What are you saying?” Mace Windu presents the question without malice, a simple request for clarification.

“Zygerria only has one export, Master Windu, and it’s not produce,” Obi-Wan says.

“Even so, he cannot simply attack non-combative worlds with Republic warships,” Plo Koon says. Obi-Wan is disappointed; he’d expected Plo’s support in this. “The Separatists are already using this as war propaganda.”

Obi-Wan frowns, setting his datapad aside. “Don’t we have more urgent concerns than Anakin, who, might I remind the Council, is no longer part of this Order, attacking slavers?”

“Much pressure on the Council was put to expel him,” Yoda points out. “Responsible for his actions, the Senate might feel we are.”

“This is all conjecture,” Mace says. “Our information is patchy. We don’t have conclusive evidence it was Skywalker.”

“Who else would have Jedi cruisers?” Obi-Wan asks.

“It could be a Separatist trap,” Shaak Ti says.

“It doesn’t feel like a trap,” Obi-Wan says.

“Regardless, we need to get to the bottom if this,” Mace says. “Master Kenobi, you need to find Skywalker.”

“And arrest him?” Obi-Wan asks.

“And talk to him,” Mace says. “Find out what he’s been doing and what he plans to do. This mission’s off the books.” He lifts his own datapad for emphasis. “We don’t have enough evidence here to prove it was Skywalker. I have a feeling the Chancellor wants us to react like it is.”

“A feeling?” asks Ki-Adi-Mundi.

“Call it a hunch,” Windu says. “I don’t trust him. I want to see what he does.”

Everyone nods slightly. No one present completely trusts the Chancellor, and most everyone is familiar with the unpredictability of the Senate. As the sun sets on Coruscant, the meeting is adjourned and the Jedi Masters rise and go their separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I'm not able to answer any comments or reviews today, as I have to be at work early tomorrow and I'm just squeezing in an update before I go to bed. I appreciate every comment, though, and I'm glad you're all enjoying the story!


	7. Negotiate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin argues with the duchess of Mandalore and does not argue with the chancellor of the Galactic Republic.

Palpatine has been waiting for this call. It took Anakin longer than he would have liked to find a new holoreciever and contact him, but in the grand scheme of things, what’s a single month? He’s been playing the long game for decades.

“Anakin, my boy,” he says as the young man appears before him in trembling blue on his private holoreceiver. He leaps to his feet as if he’s surprised. “Whatever can you be thinking? Your call could be traced.”

Anakin blinks, looking nonplussed. “Are you going to trace it, Chancellor?” he asks.

Palpatine puts on a show of blustery surprise. The fool is so trusting. “Well, no,” he says. “How could I turn on such a close friend as you?” He leans forward conspiratorially. “I tried to convince them not to issue the warrant for your arrest, but the law is the law, and you did break it, after all.” He pauses to play up an overwrought sigh. “I understand why, though.”

Anakin does not raise any of the questions someone like Amidala might have brought up, such as why, if he understands, hasn’t he changed the law with one of the many emergency powers he has accumulated over the course of the war. Years of reinforcing that everything can be taken at face value and follow-up questions are for politicians is paying off nicely.

“Of course, Chancellor,” Anakin says. “I had to protect my men.”

“Of course you did,” Palpatine says, leaning into the put-on sympathy. “It’s high time _someone_ did something.”

Anakin nods gravely. “I only wish I could help more than just my own legion.”

“Perhaps you can,” Palpatine suggests. Oh, this is too good. He imagines Skywalker attacking Republic military units and making off with kidnapped troops. If only he can make it happen. Turning Anakin against the Jedi Order has been an operation long in the planning and unexpectedly set back by his sudden desertion; there was a certain risk that the Jedi Council would allow him to roam free and do as he pleased -- so far they had made no move to take him into custody -- which would hardly endear him to the idea of slaughtering them all when the time came. But the Jedi would never stand by with their troopers being taken by force. From here it’s just a matter of leaving the right impressions on the right psyches. Child’s play.

“What do you mean?” Anakin asks, taking the bait like a baby mee fish.

“Well, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Palpatine says. “No, it’s too risky. I’ll see what I can do on my end, my boy. It’s just… well, you know how slowly the Senate moves.”

Anakin nods in agreement, his face thoughtful.

“Can I contact you on this frequency?” Palpatine asks, behaving as though the subject really has been changed.

“Yes,” Anakin says. “I’ll… I’ll let you know if it changes.” He’s distracted, still thinking about clone troopers. Good.

“Unfortunately I have duties to attend to now,” Palpatine says. “But we’ll speak again soon.” It’s not a question.

“Of course,” Anakin says, and he bows before the transmission is cut short.

* * *

It’s the day for holocalls, apparently, because almost as soon as Anakin’s call with the chancellor ends, he receives a message from Padmé with the contact information for the Duchess of Mandalore. Anakin plugs the frequency into his holotransmitter and sends the call. It’s picked up immediately, almost as if the duchess was waiting.

“Master Skywalker,” she says, and Anakin acknowledges her with a short bow. “I’ve been told by Senator Amidala that you have about five hundred refugees on your ships. She asked that I take them in on Mandalore.”

“I don’t wish to impose on your hospitality,” Anakin says carefully. “Most of them are natives of Ryloth, so sending them home is not an option. It would be a temporary situation, just until they can reasonably be transported to their home planet.”

“You understand, of course,” the Duchess says, “that I cannot condone a course of action that will lead the war to Mandalore.”

“Of course,” Anakin says. “I can assure you the Separatist military will not be looking for them. They weren’t --”

Satine raises her hand, stopping him short. “Senator Amidala told me where you got the refugees, Master Jedi. It’s of little consequence. I was more concerned about _you_. Unfortunately your actions over Coruscant last month, admirable as the intention may have been, have made you a liability.”

Anakin can’t really argue with that. Associating with him will destabilize Mandalore’s carefully cultivated neutrality with the Republic, while pinning an even bigger target on the system for the Separatists.

“Senator Amidala and yourself are the only people who know about my involvement,” he says, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels. It’s not necessarily true. It’s possible rumors got out; messages sent before they jammed communications or stories told by surviving slavers. Anything that does get out will be little more than rumors, though, and rumors will abound regardless. “There’s nothing to tie them back to me. And if the war is brought to Mandalore, of course my men and I will be at your disposal for defense.”

“I don’t require your protection, Skywalker,” she says sharply. “I’m taking a bigger risk than I like just talking to you.”

“These people didn’t ask to be enslaved,” Anakin says, equally sharply. “None of them are soldiers. Like you, they were just trying to live their lives in peace.” He forces some semblance of compusure into his voice. “I’m not asking for you to associate with me. I’m asking for you to give these people a place to live while they heal.”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t retort. Instead, she looks sad. “I sympathise with their plight. Unfortunately, I barely have enough to keep my own people fed and happy. Mandalore’s neutrality has not protected it entirely for the ravages of war.”

Anakin suppresses a sigh. He’d hoped to be able to solve this problem quickly. A long search for asylum will only hurt the people he’s trying to help. “If you feel you cannot take the risk --” he begins.

Satine raises her hand again. “However, it is not in line with Mandalore’s peaceful ideals to allow innocent people to suffer. Concordia, our moon, has a few settlers, but for the most part has remained empty since the Death Watch was driven off of it. You may take them there. We have little food to spare, but Concordia is rich with resources.”

“Thank you, Duchess,” Anakin says. This is more than he could have hoped for.

“Don’t make me regret this, Skywalker,” the Duchess says quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was delayed partially because I had writer's block for a while and partially because, last month being March, I was focusing on my eternal and undying obsession with _The Lord of the Rings_ for a while. Also, chapters will be a bit slower from here on out, since I've burned up the frenzy of mad inspiration that accompanied the initial phase of writing. I'm also writing multiple other fanfics that I'm not actively publishing, so yeah.
> 
> I probably had a bunch of things to say about the chapter, but I forgot them.


	8. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Ahsoka try to find information about Anakin.

Senator Padmé Amidala refuses to admit to any knowledge regarding Anakin Skywalker. She’s a good liar -- of course she has to be, as a senator and before that a queen -- and Obi-Wan finds that he almost believes that she really doesn’t know anything. Almost.

There’s the slightest reluctance about her and a slight lilt to her words and an air of deception permeating her Force presence, all of which were absent when the Council initially questioned her after Anakin left. It’s subtle, though, and Obi-Wan isn’t entirely certain it’s worth pushing the issue. It could be simply that she’d heard the same rumors Obi-Wan is investigating, about the Zygerrian “farming colony” and come to the same conclusions. Of course, it could also be that she knows exactly where Anakin is and what he’s planning and is simply quite good at hiding it.

The conversation isn’t particularly pleasant, either, the shadow of their last unfortunate interaction hovering over it. Both of them are stiffly polite and she calls him “Master Kenobi” throughout, and he leaves her office with little more information than he entered with.

She knows something; that much is clear. Whether it’s as innocent as the mere possibility that Anakin Skywalker attacked Zygerrian slavers or as incriminating as his current holoreciever frequency, Obi-Wan cannot tell, and until he can he feels unwilling to confront her on whatever she’s hiding. In the meantime, however, she is his best lead on Anakin’s current whereabouts, so he cannot simply leave well enough alone.

Breaking into her apartment at 500 Republica is shamefully easy, all things considered. Her protocol droid notices something amiss as he pulls himself over the balcony (he’d thought it safer to actually break into the apartment below hers and then enter via the balcony, so there would be minimal evidence of an intruder in Amidala’s apartment), but Obi-Wan deactivates it with a wave of his hand before it can identify him.

The apartment is dark, and Obi-Wan realizes that he has only been inside it a handful of times before, and most of those several years ago. He pauses for a moment in the sitting room before moving over to her private holotransmitter and activating it, pulling up a list of recently added frequencies. There are a few new ones from the last month, but they are perfectly innocuous, with names like _Saché -- new work_.

“There’s nothing there,” says a voice behind him. “Not that I expected her to add a contact for him.”

Obi-Wan turns around to find Ahsoka standing behind him. She’d masked her presence in the Force masterfully, though he thinks his focus on his task contributed in no small part to his distraction. He silently shakes his head, despite the fact that he’s suppressing laughter. On the one hand, Ahsoka apparently broke into someone’s apartment and dug through their private holoreciever history, and that is definitely not appropriate behavior for a senior Jedi padawan. On the other hand, he’s in no position to judge.

Ahsoka apparently catches onto his train of thought, because she’s quick to defend herself. “ _I_ didn’t break in here, Master,” she says. “Senator Amidala and I are friends, so I asked if we could talk when she was free this evening and then just showed up early.” She shrugs and smiles innocently.

“Then went through her holocall history,” Obi-Wan points out.

Ahsoka doesn’t answer. “ _You_ , on the other hand, I just watched crawl onto her balcony like a Kawakian monkey-lizard. Not bad, for a human. Did you climb all the way from the ground?”

“No,” Obi-Wan says, and does not elaborate. “Well, what did you find?”

“There are no frequencies listed for Anakin and she’s got no history with unknown callers. The only thing I thought was weird was that she called the Duchess of Mandalore three times the day before yesterday.”

“Satine?” Obi-Wan says in surprise. “That is strange. What would she have to do with this?”

“They _are_ friends,” Ahsoka says. “It’s not necessarily related.”

“Still, it’s a lead we’ll have to follow up.”

Ahsoka adopts a sly expression. “Do you say that because you think she knows something or because you want to talk to her?”

Obi-Wan shoots her what he hopes is a withering look. “I’m focusing on the job at hand, Ahsoka,” he says. “I don’t know where you heard _that_ \--”

“Skyguy told me,” she says smugly.

“Anakin was reading into a situation that doesn’t exist,” Obi-Wan insists. He’s lying, he knows, but he doesn’t need someone else running around telling everyone who has ears (as well as many people that do not) that he’s in love with the Duchess of Mandalore.

“ _Suuuure_ ,” Ahsoka begins, but before she can really get started they both freeze as they sense the approaching presence of Senator Amidala.

“Get out,” Ahsoka says, pushing him towards the balcony. “She’ll kill both of us if she finds you here.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t resist; he allows the padawan to direct him to the edge of the balcony and slips off the side of it, grabbing hold of the safety bar at the edge. He vanishes from sight just as the door opens. Ahsoka turns toward Padmé. “Hi,” she says, and Obi-Wan barely catches the senator’s tired reply. “Long day?” Ahsoka asks empathetically.

As soon as he’s certain the padawan has her full attention, Obi-Wan swings himself onto the balcony below and slips back out of the lower apartment, locking the door behind him.

* * *

He meets Ahsoka the next day in the Temple dining hall. She approaches with a tray of food and sits down beside him. “So?” she says. “Did you contact the duchess?”

“No,” Obi-Wan says. “I can’t just call her completely out of nowhere and ask if she knows where Anakin Skywalker is.”

“Yes you can,” Ahsoka replies. “You just _won’t_.”

“Because I have no interest in instigating an interplanetary incident,” Obi-Wan observes. “Don’t you have an upcoming mission, young one?”

Ahsoka brushes it off casually. “Not until tomorrow. Which gives me plenty of time to help you investigate.” She produces a datapad and slides it across the table to Obi-Wan. “I’ve compiled every sighting of Anakin Skywalker or the 501st fleet from the past week that I could find on the public holoNet. Most of them are rubbish, but I’ve pared it down to just the likely ones. This list is sorted by --”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan says.

“What?” she asks, tense and almost angry.

“I can take care of this. Focus on your upcoming mission to Ilum.”

Ahsoka sits tensely for a moment. Finally, she deflates. “He’s my _master_ ,” she says. “I just… it feels wrong to to not be _helping_ him.”

Obi-wan sighs. He understands. But he can’t have Ahsoka on this mission. Taking a padawan on a mission, especially a padawan not his own, requires certain paperwork and approval that would compromise the secrecy of the mission and the Council’s own supposed ignorance of it. And his faith in Ahsoka’s ability to be subtle is not particularly strong. But he’s not willing to turn her away entirely, not when he understands not only her devotion to Anakin as himself, but her devotion to him as her master. He picks up the datapad.

“If you hear anything else, let me know,” Obi-Wan says. “But don’t let your duties slip. The Council gave you a mission. Focus on it.”

“They gave me a mission to distract me,” Ahsoka complains.

“They gave you a mission because the initiates need someone experienced enough to guide them on their Gatherings but young enough to be approachable,” Obi-Wan corrects her.

Ahsoka reluctantly accepts the correction and leaves after finishing her meal. Obi-Wan activates the datapad and begins to examine the list. It’s with little surprise and a flash of unexpected pride that he notices the Zygerrian incident at the top of the list, highlighted in bright aquamarine. Out of curiosity, he expands the entry and begins to page through it. It’s an abbreviated account, with less than even the scant information the Council was given. Ahsoka has notes filled with speculation and observations, but it doesn’t amount to more than Obi-Wan already knew or suspected. He switches back to the full list and scrolls through it. She’s marked the ones she thinks are likely, but even when he finds himself in full agreement (which is often), Obi-Wan doesn’t learn much, aside from possibly the general drift of Anakin’s travels. He’s avoided major hyperspace lanes and large concentrations of Republic armed forces, which is unsurprising.

Obi-Wan considers investigating one or two of the other rumors Ahsoka had highlighted -- Anakin has to refuel his cruisers _somewhere_ , after all. But that particular lead is almost a week old. He marks it to pursue later if his current clues lead to a dead end.

He finds Ahsoka again at dinner. This time it is he who sits down across from her and produces the datapad. “What would Mandalore have to do with Anakin?” he asks.

“What?” Ahsoka asks.

“Let’s suppose Senator Amidala’s calls to the Duchess of Mandalore are relevant,” Obi-Wan explains. “What would the connection be? What would Anakin want with Mandalore? He hasn’t been anywhere near it, or if he has he’s gained a penchant for stealth he’s never possessed.”

Ahsoka looks thoughtful. “The clone template was Mandalorian, right?” she asks.

“The Mandalorians had disowned him long before he took that job,” Obi-Wan says.

Ahsoka chews silently for a moment. “It could be that he hopes Mandalore will shelter him because of the clones, though.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “The duchess would never agree to it. It would be interpreted as an act of aggression against the Republic and she knows it. Not to mention how the Separatists would react.”

“Well, maybe he’s looking for something else. Fuel? Supplies?”

Obi-Wan strokes his beard thoughtfully. “You have friends on Mandalore, don’t you?” he asks. “Cadet Korkie and his friends? Maybe you should arrange a visit.”

“I have a mission, remember, Master?” Ahsoka says. Her voice is a mix of insolence and practical observation. “Don’t _you_ have friends on Mandalore? Visit yourself.”

“I’m afraid too much political scrutiny would surround a member of the Jedi Council visiting an independent system,” Obi-Wan says. “We have to be careful. If we draw Republic attention to Anakin’s dealings, they’ll move in to arrest him.”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says in mock surprise. “Going against the Republic _and_ the Council?” She takes a bite and chews thoughtfully. “You’ll have to call the duchess, then. There’s no other way.”

“Call the duchess?” Obi-Wan asks, confused. “I can’t just accuse Mandalore of harboring a fugitive.”

“Not Mandalore,” Ahsoka says through a full mouth. “The duchess. You have _some_ sort of unofficial relationship, don’t you?”

“Some sort, yes,” Obi-Wan admits. They finish their meal in silence.

* * *

In the end, Obi-Wan is saved the trouble of contacting Satine with no evidence at all. The next day he tunes into a local Mandalorian HoloNet news broadcast to discover that Mandalore has opened their moon to refugees of the war and have taken in five hundred former slaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had meant to post this at the end of April, but during the last days of that month I realized I was in an extremely abusive situation and needed to leave. This came as rather a shock to me and I spent the last month moving, settling in, and trying to come to terms with myself and my life. Nobody ever wants to think of themselves as a victim.
> 
> Anyhow, this chapter was pretty much finished and ready to go, so I'm posting it. However, at this point I will be going on a (hopefully brief) hiatus from _Recondition_. During this time I will in all likelihood be picking up my MCU AU [_Insight World_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924623/chapters/32049540) again. I can't say for how long. If you need your _Star Wars_ AU fix in the meantime, might I recommend [_Asylum_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4415864/chapters/10030988) by Spongyllama? It's one of my favorites and was recently updated!
> 
> Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and Padmé are three idiots who would actually get a lot done if they just _talked_ to each other, but unfortunately all _Star Wars_ protagonists share a single brain cell and amazingly Anakin is in possession of it at the moment.
> 
> Do I think Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would break into someone's apartment and go through their call history? Uh. Yes. Towards the end the Republic was _very_ much a dystopian police state, sooooo...

**Author's Note:**

> You might wonder _why_ I am writing a _Star Wars_ fixit. The primary reason for me doing this _now_ (as opposed to later) is because someone recently told me that Star Wars fixits are Wrong and Bad and Fixing What Isn't Broken and Think They're Better Than Canon. Being, as I am, motivated primarily by spite, I immediately began organizing my _Star Wars_ fixit notes so that I could increase the number of _Star Wars_ fixits in the world.
> 
> The primary reason for me doing this at all is because I've been meaning to for like six years now but kept putting it off until later because there was no immediate need and picking a divergence point was hard. You have no idea how many beginnings I cycled through before I settled on this one. Some of them were pretty screwed up, too.
> 
> Anyway, you might notice that the star destroyer names in this are completely made up. Anakin commanded a task force of three star destroyers (the _Resolute_ , the _Defender_ , and the _Redeemer_ ) and at least one smaller cruiser (which I've taken the liberty of identifying as a medical frigate) in the Clone Wars, but my research (read: clicking around on Wookieepedia) indicates that they were all destroyed by this point in the timeline (directly after the _Slaves of the Republic_ arc). I'm just kind of assuming that they were replaced as available, thus the _Resolute II_ , the _Deliverance_ and the _Paladin_. Careful readers may notice that these names are just synonyms for the original names. That is because I am lazy.
> 
> I couldn't find any canon resources on what exactly clone reconditioning is but I expect it's terrible and a human rights violation on several levels. For the purposes of this story it involves memory wipes, basically "resetting" the clone and destroying their individuality and intensive retraining in whatever area they failed in.
> 
> If you are concerned that I am abandoning _Insight World_ , don't be. I am still writing it, just much more slowly.


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